Who’s not gang gang, let me find out.
These words have permanently haunted my life. And the reason is simple: Because I am not gang gang. I am a fraud. A phony. And It is my single greatest fear that one day Drake will, indeed, find out. I woke up in a cold sweat this morning, eyes wide and hyperventilating. I gripped the mahogany desk that sits next to my bed and almost spilled the water glass I had atop there. I had vividly dreamt that through some mistake I had made in my past, through some loophole I had not closed up, somehow, some way…Drake found out. I’d never been more terrified in my 55 years of life and I have served three tours with the United States Army. I've fought men twice my size with unreliable weapons and experienced terrors that shape me to this day. And still, it was basically a trip to Walt Disney World in comparison to the fear I had in that moment. In that room. In that darkness. Right then and there, I immediately dropped to my knees and prayed to God for nearly an hour and a half. I wept the entire time. In the midst of all this, I screamed out for my children and they ran into the room immediately. Even in the dark, I could see their little eyes filled with terror and concern. I pulled them close to me and hugged them tight. After a few minutes, without me uttering a word, my seven year-old son Thomas looked up at me, his eyes brimming with tears. “Don’t worry, daddy. Drake didn’t find out.” We had been in this moment many times before in the past. My pain was familiar to them and that hurt me even more deeply. After another moment, my daughter Eva added “We would never tell him you weren’t gang gang. Never.” This gave me a brief break from my misery in the form of a smile. But the bone-chilling truth wasn’t far behind: that there was no stopping Drake when he was on his worst behavior. I renounced my Christian faith right there on the spot and began praying to Drake for forgiveness. All my old pastors never really loved us. It was only 6God's Plan that mattered. I then threw my King James Version Bible into the fireplace to roaring cheers from my children. I had raised them well. We then all recited Take Care from memory, in the dark, silence of that room, with no musical accompaniment. It took one hour, 20 minutes and 18 seconds exactly. This was only a temporary relief, however. It is well known within my community that I am not currently gang gang and it’s just a matter of time before Drake finds out. Let him. It’s hopeless. Every human being on Earth knows that Drake always finds out. Always. With this in mind, it’s become clear to me that a group family suicide pact is the only option. I’ve had plenty of time to become gang gang and instead I wasted my life. Even worse still, I let Drake find out. There’s no use running. It’s only a matter of time before he does badman tings to me, my family, and my church. At a time like this, a man must be realistic. Even if we somehow could evade Drake...could we ever evade his woes? Of course not. Tomorrow morning, at roughly 7:45 or 8:00, the police will find me, my wife and my children hanging lifelessly after creating nooses from our OVO hoodies. It’s really toothpicks compared to the wrath we’d face from Drake. I mean for God's sake, he's upset. Thinking he'd never find out is disrespect. This is a mercy kill. And who’s kidding, I deserve it. Not only am I not gang gang, but I let Drake find out. What the fuck did I think was going to happen? Christ forgive me. When the police search my pockets, they will find nothing but a balled up Summer Sixteen ticket, the peak of me and my family’s joy. And scrawled across it, in red “ink”, it will simply state: If You're Reading This It's Too Late